
*•# C» aO / 

° ^/v * 

O ^ >. 9 



•\ r '•K' 

V •l* 0 ^ C\ 

<u*» *■ 


* 

. W” 'JBK 'W :'*1; w : <«& \ 

>o / ,*• \. . o° ,-^ssLt. °» ..^ yi-^.-. V 



iy ( *^ 


o V 




r ^ • 


H » 

o *&ziw* % * o % ** 

v s ,*••- ^c\ «<y .•ii'. *> v .»*•-. o* 

. - V * tfft • «£ A *& i .dW/ZJK. «•■ -.'V A. V 5 . 

^ \V ♦ •KVWTk® cy ♦ 



* cA ■* 

* „V ^ * 

«6* V 

c° .‘^JLv ®o 



° o 

* 4 <$* °* ^ „ . 

4 A *« • * • <0 




* C> •* 

* -0? • 
< 4 X +. 




V f s 


» \y <4 

x>V 


VS^BSP* r’ 7 *, 1 *"’* **\J 

, * • o, * 0 .<r *i:*% *> v N .»■••- o 4? > 

.•:«;•• v ^ .'<gfe\ ** .*♦ •»& V >* /jfltev < 


i> 0 ^ 





• * 


<v t 4 


<L^^ 

* <> • 

<s <r *£,\** a? *o u * 4 -- a» ... 

^ ,.1 1 ^% V t°* °o ^ s£atL\ \. 


«•** .^A 



^cr 



A / °o, *0? V % 



*a 0 « 


*°Xv 


« *£» aA ' 

<* c4 ^ 

® vTV * - 

fc y kP •* o wM\vv * C^ 5 

/ 'V -,m* ^ ^ *yff* % • 

.0^ V V c° .^v>. °o 




< v- o v 



, £ %. \ 

-+ 'CM^V .- #' ,.. 

• ^ .<y ' 


4r^ " 


V • 


% V AT . 

* ^\\^//» ° ^ V 

A^-V 

,* >V N* J 

b - ^SmK&L* ~%> O' • 

* 4 o A 

0 

9 ♦♦ 


^T- -,0 -k - 

r • « * >1 




% V. 


v>> < z> 



- cA ^rv 

* V 

1 , 0 * V' 4 - 

0 ^ ,» e A*% °o ^ 



•o % ^ 

° ^ V ° 

A y ^ ° 

,» v v> -\ ,, 

•'& * & 
^ V c° 6 



> i- 0 ^ * 

* r> & - 


o * 9 ,y* A 0 ^ ^ 

t # °- O a a 0 % L*w% ^ 



ao 


f ’ • o* ^ . 

^ J\^rP A.* o vt> 




t> M O 


^ <V 0 J V' 

> „ . • o, o a 0 . >LVL'f ■> 


*Q *» \ > V i» 1 u* AV 

^ ^ A^ /aVa*' ^ * 



r ^ 






a? °4* *'*'^1* , a°° ^ *’•«•''■ a 

^ V . ' * »• c\ .0 ,•%!'* > v *!'*» .'A, a0 

'*, ■**,**' /k\|£k‘'» ♦iOfA*° 0 V a* ’ 




V> » A ^'r, ■* 

4 ,.-F ^ " 


,*>-v 








- /? vTV 

* «? • 

4 A-L. * 

• • * ' <. y <a '->* <Cr c>, ** 

^ ,0 4 C °_1" ♦ . "*o 

, -y *kn^' %. <i 

ol* * ^ Cr 


4 ♦ 


O * - . « • 


# # * 


*0 

*0* %LV1/* O v % 
4T * 


A 1 


: ^o ^ 


o 

a)"^. O 

V * V <?- °, 


* v.# y 






0 o 0 .** ♦ _ o. 


* c? ^ -* 

* V °^ • 

# ts ?* 4 ^<GA 

*0 « A * <0 


V • 6 ^ Q v „ 0 * <* 


*- ^0* 


* 4 N T 

« <y <‘D' v 

, o V 




0 N 0 ° A 


O. *,,,•’ ,0 


.0 v * 

♦ v 0 * V 


• ’’W 


-• A ' ’*. 




V F o. 


V 


♦ .j 


v **•». o 


o^ *•»,,* 


* Va* * 


'j'-y 


VD *✓ 


# * 


o 

; <va * 0 

a # ^ •>. 

* 4 .\" <X, '° • * 

A* 

<N ♦ JT//Z25^ - *r 


% A y 4 

vv 


c 5 m*v - 

* v °o> • 

* sy * 


^ A V 

° <^ 0 ^ 

i °In V 

* - * 

c 


o-*, 

<•. o 


' * • » ^ 


w ^ <7 

* O > 


.- o 4 - 0 ^ •- 

^ * *'rr; • * a a° .. **/•... 

•o v y *v6fe*>k'. ^ ,^ v 4 - 




« -^5 ^ 

* *y ° 0 * 

° y . . % *• 


\?> 

o V 


,* v ^ 

4 A 

v ^ * »> » 0 + <i 

4* / ' 


>,* V °. 

• A <. 

4 * J&f{!/z?^ ~ rr 


+*<* 


■’, \.,4 


'* *> 


vs 




* 


V 


* \? * 
■* ^-OA <> 





A v W * # 

0 V 


$ v r 

0 . o **-»/***-. *r ^ 

: ^o v 4 ; 

> >° •%_ \ 

* * ■% '* 


<Tjk ^o * * ^ ,0 


^ 4> _V 

A 0 ^ 41 

- A? ‘w>L'» > 

> »A^W<IWO ,£. A, * 

, V A v * • 


•c ^ A 

vO^ 


> A'”''V J - 

4 A *< 





°-^ *"'‘ A 

’*»- o, ^p 


^'V 


,< ' %> ,s^‘ 



« * 


y >v/rzzL\ ^ 


O * k 


- c> ^rv 

* <P * 

4 ^ * 





v 5,° ^ « 

^ °0 ^ e; b ‘*^ 5 * 0 ° \ 

■ .0 V »*AL»* ^ V s **•«« c> j.0 , *VJA> 





‘. A. A 


£3*1 




^ > 
> > ) 



Charles Philip Krauth 

\ » 


Copyrighted i $ i 4. 

CHARLES F. KRAUTH# 





M 

*l tr) * 



JUN li i014 


/ 






©CI.A374404 

bo f 



THE OCEAN OF DREAMS. 

At the uttermost end of Heart’s Desire 
At the feet of that beautiful land, 

Lies an ocean as blue as the blue sapphire, 

With a girdle of diamond dust sand. 

And ever the cherry blossoms blow, 

White as the foam on the waves below, 

The Edenlike gardens where they grow, 

Where wonderful palaces stand. 

Oh, a bark of pearly nautilus frail 
Will bear you far on the sapphire sea, 

The perfumed airs will fill the sail, 

The fairest promise shall gO' with thee. 

And ever the pale sea line recedes, 

And the crescent moon sends her silver beams 
From the purple sky on golden weeds, 

Which, lily-like, float, on the sea of dreams. 


FLOWER FANCIES 

I want to dream, a while, alone. 

Of my garden, now gone by 
Where fancies with flowers, were sown, and grown 
To bud, and blossom, and die, 

For I feel sometimes, the flowers we sow 
Have hearts, that can understand 
The joy of the gardner, or share his woe 
For they flourish under his hand, 

And the blood warm cheek of the rose so red 
And the tulips crimson bowl, 

And each upturned eye, in the violet bed 
Is hiding a flower's soul. 

Incense, is the soul of a flower 
Breathing of bloomis gone by 
Perfume, is the pearl of their power 
Immortal, and dare not die 
The fragrance flown, from summer dead 
From lily, violet, roses red 


And the sleep compelling poppy, thrown 
To Autumn winds, and by them blown 
Afar, returns with wanton will 
As can not die, nor yet lie still — 

And now, the winter sunlight pale, 

Laid on the marsh, and the sullen sea 
At times glows brighter, a warmer gale 
Over the eel grass blows fitfully 

Bearing bright blooms from memory 
Of drowsy Augusts of long ago^ 

As a blood red rose, on a drift of snow; 
Calls to the mind all dead desire, 

Those crimson blossoms born of fire; 
Which can recall the song we sung 
When we, and the willful world were young 
Relights the torch, touches a bar 
Of music, heard on some lost star 
Restores to sense, our long dead spring 
The song we sung, and yet may sing. 


THE EMPTY HOUSE. 


Who has not known, 

That sadness, and regret 
Its sorrow giving, 

From the past set free 
The haunting presence, 

Thou can’st not forget, 

Those, who are living, 

And yet, dead to thee? 

Is there not one, 

Who haunts some vacant place 
Whose voice, in some dark room, 
Breathes low like prayer; 

And garments rustle, 

Through the empty space? 

Ah, gently tread the gloom, 

For She ; is there. 


EXPECTANT. 

No sleep, is on the restless eye, 

No rest, comes to the troubled brain, 

When will the darker hours pass by? 

When comes, the new born, sun again? 

Each day, ten thousand blossoms die, 

Each day, ten thousand buds are born. 

Say ! Does my star, still ride the sky ? 

Oh ! what fierce fate, comes with the morn ? 


MIST HIDDEN 

Sailing across, some star lit sea 
V r eiled in thin mist, which cannot rise 
And the low waves, are warm wind kissed 
The horizon, is endlessly 
Stretching, before the dripping prow 
Of my frail craft, while all the eyes 
Of the strange stars, blink sleepily 
So broad the sea, so far the skies 
So white the mist, that twix them lies 
That all their trickery, and chance; 

Are lost to ken Yes they disguise 
The slightest hint, of treachery 
And only music, from them pour 
For all the winds, make melody 
Yet Fate, is waiting at the door 
Of Circumstance, twix skv and sea 
Low wail, the winds, with little light 
And lesser still, each far, star gleams 
So sail, I onward, through the night 
To sight, my port of dreams. 

Long may I seek, yet never find 
My ever summer sheltered, isles 
Of Fancy, where the poplars lined 


Against blue sky, sigh, in their sleep 

And all the scarlet flowers keep 

The long lost secrets, of the heart 

When hearts were young, and could impart 

Something, besides their bitterness 

And penitent, the waves confess 

Their sins, to Father Silence, on that shore 
His presence broodeth, evermore, 

Where pools, of many colors lie 
Between dark peaks of mountain isles 
Which hide them from the open sea 
That far, blue, open sea line thrown 
Beyond the coral walled lagoon 
Belting the world, and even my 
Lost isle, the child, of sea and sky 

I could not brood, too long upon 

The Past, or it's old melody 

It’s sad sweet airs, would break each string 

Of my dark heart, and yet they bring 

A blessing, and a boon ; They say 

“Lo, every, golden Yesterday 

Was pain, while present, for your soul 

Was then, as now, far, far away A 


IT SEEMS AS THOUGH. 
(From the Pleasure Voyage.) 

It seems as though 
We may have walked, 

By some forgotten sea, 

And seen the deep tide 
Turn, and go. 

Back to his hollows free. 

It seems as though, 

We may have stood, 

On some forsaken star, 

And watched the waves 
Of Saturn flow, 

Round his triumphal car. 

It seems as though 

We may have been 

Two souls, ’twix Heaven and Hell 

And learned the lore 

Of joy, and woe, 

The star strown, spaces spell. 

It seems, Dear Heart! 

In some far time, 

Ere ever, the earth grew cold, 

Two souls, we bore 
A kindred part, 

And Thou; wert mine of old. 


EVENING SEA 


Eastward, there lies a purple evening sea 

Bound on the west by a ribbon of sand 
Wind worn, and dark, salt pines, the beach com- 
mand 

On main and marsh, the sun beams fail and flee 
For the sun is setting : behind each tree 
The stealthy shadows lurk, leap on the strand 
As the sun sinks slow, in the marsh inland 
He yields his royal reign reluctantly 

So fades some golden hour, on Life’s sad sea 
As flies, the music, from some shattered shell 
And dies, of pride, and power, the guady gleams 
The lingering fragrance, from a broken flower 
All that it has of charm, yet all were well 
If we dreamed true, by oceans, set with dreams. 


THE DESERTED PALACE 


There was no pleasure, in all the palace 
All it’s gods, were gone away; 

Untasted, the wine, in each crystal chalice 
Music’s soul, came hushed that day 

T' wards noon came one who swiftly past 
Through every court and banquet hall 

Till in far gardens, he came at last 

To the towering terrace, o’erlooking the wall 

Over the empty lawn he paces 

Beneath the bay trees blue, and high, 

Seeking forever, those vanished faces 
Seen now never, by mortal eye 

Forever flown, with their gifts, and graces 
Into exile and poverty 

To be robed in rags, (who were lavish with laces) 
In that stranger land, lying over the sea 

A bird note, answered his anxious call 
The plaintive wail, of the whippoorwill 

Mixed with the fairy fountain's fall 
But other voices ; were silent still 

The lazy, languid, ones had fled 

Their hearts were broken, their hearths were cold 

Neglected, each delicate rose, lay dead 
Their faded fragments, strewed the mold 


Like drops of blood, rose petals lie 

And the undried dew, in the shade, seems tears 
O'er the garden shed, by the sorrowful sky 
Lamenting, the vanished, lords, and peers. 

And in the evening, the searcher came 
Again to the lonely banquet place 
And lit the tapers; the flickering flame 
Played white, on a wan and worn, face 

But now, a marvelous thing befell : 

As ebb tide turned, and came back from the sea 
The lights lit brighter : the vesper bell 
Over the chapel tolled musically 

And Evesong ended, lady, and lord, 

Or only their presence, their ghosts glide through 
The palace portals, and throung the board 
As they of old, were wont to do 

As though their love, from over the main 
Blessing it’s ancient cover still, 

Returned with the tide, from peril and pain 
To hover over, it's weird fulfill 

» 

The day is long, and the mind is free 
To follow the footpath, where we roam 
But as ebb tide turns, and comes back 'from the sea 
With moon, and midnight; the heart turns home. 


THE LOST SWEETHEART. 


Come, Little Love, the day dawns sweet 
And all the starry eyes, are blind ; 

Come to the warm, white sands, and find 
Some gift of Ocean at our feet 

Mid shells, and seaweed, course intwined. 

Lo, all night long, my soul hath pined 
And sought you. Now the day dawns fair 
And all the starry spies, are blind ; 

Come to the warm, white sands to find, 
Mayhap, the mermaids’ combs are there. 

Sure 'twas a mocking dream that said, 

“Now night is fled, and dawns the day.” 
What matter, Sweetheart, what dreams say? 
Still, I have dreamed, that you were dead, 

And cold, beneath the churchyard clay 
And vacant, and all lonely, lay 
Twix main, and marsh, our future home, 

Yet night is sped, and dawns the day. 

W hat matter, Sweetheart, what dreams say 
O ! Sweetheart ! Sweetheart ! Come. 


THE ISLES OF DEAD DREAMS. 


Right gently, Charon, ferry them over, 

The faded, dead dreams of yore, 

The dreams of love, the visions of power, 

These dreams have been dreamed betore. 

So mock them not, in their fallen pride 
Because, that pride was vain; 

But tenderly lay them, like withered flowers. 

All side, by side, in the cedar tree bowers 
Of islands in the main. 

Their islands lie, on the edge of the world, 

On the thin blue curve of sea. 

And when we shall tire, of each lost desire, 

They'll harbor these poor waifs free. 

Soft sighs the wind in the cedar grove 
On the steep, steep heights above 
The silent deep valleys, shut off from the sky 
By the mist, and the mangrove, where shrouded lie 
The poor dead dreams of love. 

So gently, Charon, ferry them over, 

Far over, the stormy flow; 

The dreams of love, the visions of power, 

To islands, where dead dreams go. 


LORD CALVERT’S CITY 


There is a city, of which my dreams 

Are all of it’s purple, evening, hour 

When the soft mists rise, from the basin's mouth 

And the warm winds blow, from that further South 

Whose gateway, the city seems 

And blue smoke wreaths ’gainst purple sky. 

And opal mist, together vie 
In changing tints, to charm the eye 
Of contemplative laziness 

And looking over the moves one saw 
The past, and present, in the mind 
And future, Fancy's day dreams lined 
Against the paleing horizon 

And loved to watch, with Day near done 
The stars appear, and one, by one 
The lights of the ships, and of the town 
Shine through the dusk, as the jeweled crown 
James Stuart, cast in the Thames, as he fled, 

May have shone, on it’s murkey bed 


And the soft night, is tilled with sound 
Tenderly blended, from far below 
With laughter of negroes, and all around 
The students windows open glow 
And the air is fragrant with pipes, and cooking, 
And far flung perfume, from fields in May 
And Lo, I am lonely, as I am looking 
Through Memory’s mirror, at Yesterday 

Little winds, from the bay are stealing 
Telling tales, of the far sea brine 
Little laughs, from the doorway pealing 
All angelically feminine 

And sight, and sence, and feeling seem 

So blended recollections lie 

Can but recall some town, like to a dream 

City, set as a pearl, in opal sky 

Though I have failed, in many things 

And all my fire flies have turned 

To glow worms, lacking airv wings 

And soon extinguished where they burned, 

I would not live again the past 
Nor it’s forgotten tales retell 
For Memory holds, and clings at last 
Only ; to what runs well. 


THE LOST SOUL. 


Ah, have I dreamed, I wandered late 

\ 

And left — I know not what behind, 

In the churchyard? I cannot mind 
Just what it is; that I would find, 

But think it lies, near to the gate — 
Near to the gate, with upturned eyes. 
Under a mound of fresh-turned clay. 

I fear I must have lost my way, 

A circle have I trod, — For See! 

The house I died in Yesterdav. 

j 

And they? — Have they forgotten me? 

The wide world, swims, in sunset glow, 
Cold are the peaks, and far below 
My own hearth fire, flickers bright 
Should I come home by candle light 
What — then ? 


WINTER SHORE 


Is this the shore, where drowsy August lay 

Poppy crowned crimson, with her languid eye 
Fixed ever, on the dim blue summer sky 
Flecked with white clouds, that heaven has long been 
gray 

Long has Old Ocean ceased his summer play 
And furious, hurls his angry wave arms high 
In agony, his vanguards vainly try 
To pass the sodden sand that bars their way 
The ice binds the salt meadows with a band 
And cloaks the barnackles, on pile, and pier 
The sea lies sad. Dark clouds hide all above 
Is this indeed, our lazy summer strand 

And this dull tide, the main, we held so dear 
When Baldur, ruled with Avis, god of love. 


THE ADVENTURER’S COURTING. 


(From The Pleasure Voyage) 

Love, where the gallies of Long Ago 
Swam in a sleepy, southern sea. 

Love, where the citron and olive grow, 
And the orange blossoms, blow to thee. 
A message of indolent ease; 

Foreswear the hum of the busy bees, 

That hive in the north 
A tale they tell 
Of toil, and trouble, 

Come forth ! Come forth ! 

To lands where the lotus letheans dwell, 
Oh best beloved ! 

Of all of those, I have loved in youth 


I shall love in age. 

Come forth ! Come forth ! 

From the cold, hard, north, 

To lands where the drowsy dryads, gage 
The hours, by flowers, 

And fruits, that fall 

From trees, that but blossom, and bare again. 
Where the season flies, 

And summer dies, 

But to be refreshed, in the weeks of rain. 
And the odors of Eden, 

Their fragrance threw 
For naught to the breeze 
That blows clear, and high, 

Across the palms, from the burning blue, 

That lives, in a southern sky. 


NEW SPRING 


From over seas, Spring is at hand 

At our heart’s door, twix faith, and doubt 
Love lingers long, and waits without 

Love knows not, if we understand 

At our heart's door, twix faith, and doubt 
The message, that he fain would bring 
With bursting buds, and balm of Spring 

Love lingers long, and waits without 

From overseas, Spring is at hand 
Hinting at things we cannot tell : 

Can a new love, the old excel ? 

Love knows not, if we understand 

Love lingers long, and waits without 

Though Spring be near, and Winter old; 
Though Youth be dear, and Age be cold; 

At our heart's door, twix faith, and doubt 

Love knows not, if we understand 

Of fires relit, which long have lain 
In ashes, of their pride, and pain 

From over seas, Spring is at hand 

Come Love! Come Spring! On sea and land 
Sad is our lot; our Winter rout; 

From over seas, Spring is at hand! 

Love lingers not ; nor waits without. 


NIGHT 


Then Night, is dearer than the day 
And Day, is darker than the night 
When our last hopes, are washed away 
In tears, and taen too soon their flight 
Those Years, when our wrong world, went right 
And all was glittering, and gay 
Then Night, is dearer than the day 
And Day, is darker than the night 

When we have failed, in every fight 
Found our dear idols, were but clay 

When all we love, is lost to sight 

And fled for aye Romance, and May 
Then Night, is dearer than the day 
And Day, is darker than the night 


PR ESTER JOHN. 


East of Saint Peter's wondrous dome 
Beyond the shores, of Patriarchal Greece, 

Beyond, the imperial sway of Ancient Rome, 

Far in the mountains, lav the Court of Peace 
Far north of Delhi's Mogul reign. 

By Hvinalayan mountains guarded well. 

Beyond the Afghan raider’s, power of bane, 

Lay Prester John’s forbidden citadel, 

A wondrous city, in a barren land. 

Of chasms deep, and snow-clad mountains old, 

And desert lakes, half choked with drifting sand, 
Silent, and lone, and cold 

His towers reared their heads, on that plateau, 
From whose proud snow caps, does the Indus sweep, 
Down to the fertile plains of Hind below; 

And binds, with silver chains, the mountains’ feet 
Enriched with precious gems, and mountain gold 


And pearls far brought, from Nippon's isle~strown 
seas, 

And tapestries, of China’s empire old, 

The palace was, the Prester’s heart to please, 

On all sides from the palace, straight there fell, 

A gulf so hideous, and so wildly drear 
As though it were the very gate of Hell. 

It chilled the traveler's heart, with sudden fear, 
Strange shapes, danced in the moonlight pale. 
Reads the quaint lore of Manville, who could show 
A thing to make the boldest heart to quail, 

That they were devils, dancing there below. 

L’ENVOY. 

Spirit of Fancy, in a world so lone; 

Forever, may thy mystic temples stand 
Mountain protected, like the Prester’s throne. 
Guarded forever, in a forbidden land. 


DAWN'S CONQUEST. 

An hour passed on, 

And yet, the darkness lay 
As though, it never would ; 

Give place to day 
As though, the host of stars 
Standing at bay 
Cried “We are victors !” 

Who shall say us nay? 

In quick succession, 

On the level shore 

Snow white, and ghost like, 

But with dreadful roar 
The advancing host of billows, 
Showered their spray 

Then came a change 
Too quick, for mortal eye 
Their silent, subtle, 

Fading, to descry 

The thousand burning orbs; 

Dimmed in the skv 
The dark, and lowering, 

Canopy of Night 
Was streaked at first; 

And then suffused, with light 

And from the East 

Victorious on his way 

Pursuing vanquished Night, came on, 

The Victor Day. 


THE CHILD OF THE SKY. 


(An Autumn Idyl.) 

Up, up, among the autumn leaves, 

Swings the child of the sky, 

Where the cold north wind, that lifts, and heaves 
These frost-born flowers, flings high. 

Up, up, against the banded white 
The stratus clouds to view, 

And he could even catch a sight 
Far off, of a salt sea blue. 

Up, up, against the heaven soon 

Watched morning wax, to afternoon, 

The light, turn, waning fast. 

The East grow grayer, till at last — 

High in the heaven, a slender, crescent moon. 

Hung o’er the hills, a scimiter aglow, 

And mocked the golden leaf, so far below. 


THE MOON MANSIONS 


With eyelids half devoid of sleep, 
Beneath the light of Lima 
At her noon, on the golden disk 
Did far flung fancy, heap 
Tower, and hold, and castle keep 
Of mansions, in the moon. 

Beneath the borrowed light, sun lent. 
Rose mountains, walled by silence, 
And below, their towering tops, 

Was gold effulgence spent, 

On halls of souls in banishment 
And on, a silent flow. 

For on the further summits bold 
The thorn set courts, of Gallio 
And Cain, o’erset a crater 
In whose dull depths rolled 
The sluggish currents, of a cold, 
And cobalt blue, moon main. 


But as I watched, a shaft of fire 
That in the eastern heaven 
Had lain there, leaping in fury 
Moonward, struck a spire 
Beneath that sunlit touch, so dire 
Each palace, fades in air. 

Spacious buildings, lose their splendors, 

Luna herself, is waxing 

White and wan. The very moon, her 

* 

Golden glow surrenders 

Hastly fly, her star defenders. 

Sore stricken, by the Dawn. 

- 

Her fair form, fading from on high 

All white, and deadly palored 

The moon lav. The Orient Sun 

* 

Rolled naked in the sky 
Blood red, in blazing majesty, 

And brought, a burning day, 


IF 

If I could do, as I have done 

If you, should sigh, as you have sighed. 

If I could win, as I have won, 

One look of love, O azure eyed! 

If I could know, you loved me yet, 

If you would but, forgive, forget 
Misunderstanding long ago 
Which sunk my summer sun, in snow 
If you, would only turn, and say 
‘‘Come Love, the past, is yesterday 
We have long life before us still, 

There is a way, where there’s a will'’ 

Could we not climb to that high state, 
Though Youth be gone, and years be late 
Which Eve, and Adam, knew so well 
Before they by the tempter fell 

Most Precious Pearl ; though I be fool, 
Thy face, and mine; each hide a skulk 


FANETTE 

Ah fluffy Fanette, is it gala night 

That you are all arrayed in broad cloth blue 
With orchid bouquet, placed to match the hue 
Of Irish lace, that forms your collar white? 
These are spoils of a conflict, wrong, or right 
As failure, or success, your father knew 
In this town toilsome, where his fortune grew 
For honor here ; is made by craft, and might 

But I, I, be bound, in your heavy hair 

And I, I, be drowned, in those lakes your eyes 
And your fairy feet, on my heart are set. 

Ah Princess, this believe; I still should care 

For you, although you came in beggar’s guise 
In silk, or sackcloth, you are still — Fanette. 


THE PEACOCK BOWER 


Bower, by bower, the peacocks plume 
Themselves, on the turf, and marble wall. 
Flower, by flower, the gardens bloom 
Hour, by hour, the shadows crawl 
Across the grass, till they steep in shade 
The red, red, roses, covering all. 

And dead, dead, fragrants, that crumble and fall 
Under the fresh ones, newly made. 

Time, and tide, by the peacock bowers, 

Lazily drift, o’er a summer sea. 

Climb beside the jasamine flowers 

The royal ramblers of Arcadie. 

The radiant roses, running red, 

Midst piebald pansy, and asphodel, 

With laurel, lily, and lovely blue bell, 

Spring from the dust of ancient dead. 


Sailing slow, o’er the peacock bower, 

Veiling in places, the heaven's hue, 

Come clouds, that are dusted with golden dower, 
Till a sad, sweet, note, of music new, 

Like song of a skylark from the sky, 

Falls like an arrow true, 

Falls, till it pierces the liquid eye 
Of lake, and ocean blue. 

Alas ! Illusion, fades hour, by hour, 

The white wall crumbles ; the peacocks flee, 
The rose is withering, bower, by bower, 

Flower, sweet flower, come back to me! 

Dies the dream of passion, and power, 

Sinks sand, and summer sea, 

Sweet Delusion, my peacock bower, 

Cradled on Bermudie. 


TRIUMPH 


Now, is the longed for hour come, 

Now, is our triumph dear 
Bought at the price, of honor, and all 
Wrung, from Fate, in our heavy fall 

As the day of our doom draws near 

Tomorrow, a week, a month, a year 

Who knows, how the time will fly? 

Our present power, tonight’s full fame 
Tomorrow, may sink, in sorrow, and shame 
Let us drink; for tomorrow, we die 

Down in the east, the dawn dogs lie 

Gray streaks, with the day in their wake 
We be sons of plunder, of pride, not toil 
Let us wallow tonight ; on our crimson spoil 
’Tis the last, we may ever take 

Up goblets: Our heads, on our cause we stake 
They be lost, as we loose, or stand 
We drink tonight — 

To our triumph bright — 

Who exiles, the day, may brand 

But tonight ; we have sheathed the sword in hand 
Now; is our right divine! 

Now ; we are masters ; of all the land 
Lords; of the women, and wine! 


/ 


SPIRIT OF SONG. 


Spirit of Song, come again, 

It is long since we drank together, 
Now is Night June, and the rain 
Has ceased, with the summer weather 
Let us laugh, with the liquid gold 
In the wine, let us cast our care. 
What if the world, be barren and old, 
Beauty, and Youth, are there. 

Why, should we grieve in part? 

Are not the new, roses red? 

The song, is it not in the heart 
Held long, though the singer be dead 
There was a night, that was day 
To this night; softer far — 

But the lamp; shall we cast it away — 
Because, it is not, a star? 

Here is a health. It is half 
Jest, for things gone with the years 
On the edge of our lips, lies a laugh 
On the lids of our eyes, are tears. 


THE LETTERS. 


Faded sheets, where the ink that once was blue, 
Has faded also, to a rusty gray, 

Scarce legible, at first, one needs must lay 
One's finger, on the fragile page, in hue 
Once white, as the white roses, that we knew, 

In that fair, far, forgotten, garden gay, 

That ever seems, to bask in waning day. 

And is the place, in which I courted you 

In that far time, you wrote these notes to me 
So long ago, that I forget the years. 

Between those pleasures, and the present pain 
I know, but cannot read, these lines from thee 
Nor have the heart to, were it not in vain, 

Some long agoes, are only traced, through tears. 


THE LOST GARDEN. 


There were roses white. There were roses red. 
They lined the walks, and they climbed, on the 
wall, 

And the honey bee, and humming bird, fed 
From fragrant lily stalks, slender, and tall, 

But of all the flowers, we knew the best, 

Beyond the sun-dial, and far from the gate, 

The white, white, roses, that bloomed t’ward the 
west, 

For they glowed like lamps, in the gloaming late. 
The Jacobite rose, so stainless of hue, 

You wore on vour breast, in the long ago. 

We stood on the grass, ’neath the bay trees blue, 
But the white rose, lay, o’er a heart of snow. 
There were roses red. There were roses white. 
And I was a moth in the candle light. 

s ° 


THE DAWNING 


A darker night, than this that lies 

On rain soaked field and battered tree 
A darker night, than this that dies 
On sodden sand, and silent sea 

A darker night spreads over me 

Oh! what will end it’s sorry sway? 
When, on the dark line, of Life’s sea 
Shall dawn my day? 


WHITE MARSH. 

Fly your banners, of blossom, and bloom, 
Red ridges, roll down to the sea, 

Pink of peaches, and cherry plume, 

White, on the wind-washed tree. 

Laugh to the sun, and the silent stars 
Smile on the vale below. 

Wave your willows, o’er silver bars 

That mark, where the broad brooks flow. 

Forget your sorrow, sad, sighing stream, 
Shout, to the ridges free. 

Red roads, roll up to the sky-line’s gleam. 
Red ridges, roll down to the sea. 






BERMUDIAN NIGHT. 


(From the Pleasure Voyage.) 

All hail! Soft southern night! When each sweet star 
Hangs lamplike, in the heaven’s purple dome, 

As lights before an altar, and afar, 

Incense, from flowers, is wafted through the 
gloom. 

The mystery of maid, and moth, and moon, 

Broods white, on tiny shrub, and proud palm tree. 
A breeze awakes, o’er silent sand, and soon 
The swaying cedars, sigh unto the sea. 

A phantom flash of phosphorescent fire 

Marks an oar’s stroke, on the dark harbor’s breast, 
Far off, the sleepy sound of ocean’s lyre, 

Lulls his sweet child, cradled in his caress, 

So steeped in silence, slumber, and delight, 

Sleep on, yet wake, thou blest Bermudian night. 


IN EXILE 


My heart is heavy, for the sea, 

And I am loth, of leaf, and land 
Yet here I bide, and may not flee 

To turning tide, and warm, white sand 
The hills, as hoary sentries stand 
Veiling the view, so narrowly 
My heart is heavy for the sea, 

And I am loth, of leaf, and land 

Oh, how the memory comes to me 
Of waning day, on the gray strand 
The wide, wide, world, held sleepily 
Bound in the broad, and purple band 
My heart is heavy, for the sea, 

And I am loth, of leaf, and land. 


THE SHELL AND THE ROSE 


A rose, once bloomed in a garden 
Many miles inland, they say, 

Among the grasses, and pebbles, 

At her feet, a sea shell lay. 

She swayed, and laughed, to the hedge rows 
For she, was bred inland 
And how could she hear, his song so clear? 
He, sang, of the wet sea sand. 

The shell was lovelorn, and in exile, 

But she, in a home so fair, 

To her, that she never stooped to smile 
On him, in misery there. 

But sweet June died in the garden, 

And under the fiery sun, 

And molten skies of midsummer ; 

The roses, drooped one by one. 

The sea shell heard the thunder, 

That shook the angry sky 
To gather the drops from heaven, 

His cup did open lie 

Down, falls, the pelting shower 
Past ; all her hopes, and fears 
The shattered rose, is floating 

On the lake, of the sea shell’s tears. 


THE LOST FLOWER. 


1 once possessed a flower’s yield, 

As fluffy, and pure, as snow; 

It came from a gardened fairy field 
Where white carnations grow; 

But I lost the flower, in an evil hour, 

And ere I had found it once more 
The blossom was dead, that blest my bower 
And naught, could its beauty restore; 

1 reverently laid the withered thing 
In the garden it once made fair ; 

Hope's golden butterfly took wing, 

And left me in deep despair 
Till there burned in my heart, strange phantom fires, 
Urging me ever to go — 

Sail to the Land of Lost Desires 
Where such carnations grow. 

We sailed for many nights and days; 

And still with night again, 

The bows, of the bold “Bonne Esperais” 

Plunged deep, in a star-lit main. 

Away from the coast of Past Regret, 

An unknown sea sailed we, 

Till we sighted summer islands set 
Like jewels in the sea; 

And there stole to our ears, with sounding wires 
Of harps played soft and low, 

The song of the Land of Lost Desires 
Where white carnations grow, 

We drifted over the harbor bars 
'Twix atols covered with foam, 

Lit by the light of long-lost stars, 

That guided a wanderer home. 


THE DEAD SUMMER 


The sapphire blue, that yesterday 
Was over all the sleepy seas 
That drowsy, dreamy, August lay 
That insects played, our ears to please 
Has faded, and fallen, and flown away 
To some far distant southern isle 
To some far fairer sapphire sea, 

To where prepetual summers smile 
On shores of Arcadie 

A darker night, will come, you say : 

Our stars will set, beyond recall, 

The world is growing cold, and gray 
Young love, will fall as flowers fall 
But though this summers gone for aye 
Another year, will swallows sing 
Mid fields of blossoms, yet unborn 
To-morrow’s morrow's morrow morn 
Come moon brought tides, of Spring. 


DAISIES 


Dear little Love, where the daisies grow 
Hearts o’ gold in sashes of snow, 

Strip one of pettals, but know, ah know, 

I love thee truly, what ever they show 
Fickle are they, as the winds that blow 
Over your hill sides, high and low, 

But constant as rocks, that resist the foam, 
Broad as the spaces, the sea birds roam, 
Deep as its caverns, my love for thee 
Is deep as the caves, of my well loved sea. 


BY THE RIVER, 


The farther shore, grows dark against the sky,. 
And the tali chimneys, throw their long, drawn veils 
Athwart the banded clouds, and the light fails 
Slow, as the sleepy silver tide slips by 
Mainward, the inland stormblown, gray gulls hie 
Follow the flow, back to the salt sea, pale 
They pass. The heavens are lifeless. Not a sail — ■ 
Creeps o’er the river, as the moments fly. 

And friendships go, as those lost gulls have gone* 
Visions of Youth, fade as the daylight dies, 

Old loves are lost, even as sunsets flee 
O! hurrying footsteps; pause if but for one 
Brief hour, before yon chilling mist arise. 

Our tides of Life, are slipping to a sea. 


V 


EVENING AT THE SHORE. 

The broad gray beach, at twilight hour 
Mirrowed the glory of the West, 

Each tiny shell, a lovely flower 

Glowed on the sand which gave it rest : 

Till a shadow t covered the sun-kissed land 
As time, turned with the tide 
The light on the marsh, and the light on the sand 
Glimmered, faded, and died. 

And slowly, through the willow trees 
Over the horizon line afar, 

Over the swell, on the sunken bar, 

The moon rose, out of the Eastern seas. 


i 


OUR CENTURY 


The nymphs, and naiads, are dead, ah dead! 

Love lies low in a vale of June 
Romance, and May, have fled, ah fled, 

Colder the world grows, rune by rune 
Ragnarock falling, soon too soon, 

Wild waves calling, earth’s race is sped 
The nymphs, and naiads, are dead, ah dead! 
Love lies low in a vale of June 

Falls in fragments, the roses red 
Sinks in silence, the harper’s tune 
Ceases the chantry, sung or said, 

White, and lifeless, the lovers moon 
The nymphs, and naiads, are dead, ah dead! 
Love lies low, in a vale of June. 


LOVE UNRETURNED 


Love that should be dead, yet is undying 
Unquenchable affection, formed in vain 
Forgetmenots, whose prayers, are pearls of pain 
Uselessly all, from Cupid's altar crying 
Oh, would some kindly god, but hear their sighing 
Wasted, and withered, on the fiery fane 
And bid descend, the cooling letheal rain, 
Forgetfulness, for hopeless longing buying 
Ah, could our dream wove fancies, all fulfil 
Their delicate, and star-wraught destiny; 

Ah, would the way, were only just the will, 

Sailing successful o'er a summer sea, 

With laughter, song, and all transcendent light 
For cold indifference, forms the darkest night. 


SWAN SONG 


I sat on sand dune, surmounting the sea, 
Weaving a web of dreams : 

Working into it, tide, and times 

The shadowy sons, from far-off climes 
Each hour, a moment seems 
O'er head the bended blue, 

To the east, the circle of sea 
White against the sky the blossoms grew 
Over their heads, and wan in hue 
The little white cloudlets flee 

t 

Over the glittering sand, 

The mirage fancies go 
Cast on the seagirt land, 

As the gifts, and spoils, of the flow 
Till heart, and brain together 
Follow the sun-lit beams 
And cannot stay, but are born away 
On a rainbow tide of dreams 
On in a star-strewn fancy 
Of future, fancy free. 

As dreams adrift forever 
On a lazv summer sea 

Visions, of long gone years 
Things, that were once despised 
Place them in pearls, the tears 
For a past, that is idolized 
Oh Languid loves, no more to lie 
All lazy where the clouds drift by : 

Over the gardens, and the graves 

Hidden below cold ocean caves 

Where the dull groundswell, moans and raves 


And frothy foam-heads, fleck the waves 
Oh, could ten thousand summers pass 
Ere one blue blade, dried in your grass! 
Oh, could ten thousand seasons die 
Ere one sweet star, dimmed in your sky! 

Dreams ; drift away 
The ceaseless tides 
Bear far, and ever, 

Far from me 
Your outbound sails 
A river glides 
Into, but never 
Back, from sea 

Glourious galleys, 

They dip, and flee 
With the last dying 
Solar ray: 

Night will cover 
* The shore, and sea, 

And hope ; low lying 
Dies with day 

Slowly, the luster departed : 

Slowly, the daylight died : 

Slowly, the full flood tide 
Turned as if broken hearted 
Back, to his caverns cold, 

Returned, to his caves as of old 
Drawn bv the full faced moon, 

m/ J 

Just rising out of the main 
The hours of Evil again 
Exalted, conquered the day 
And carried my visions away. 


PHYLLIS. 


Good morrow, Phyllis ! Does the carriage wait, 
Your pleasure, on this merry morning tide? 
You will drive off, so soon with Fluff beside, 
Brave, in be-ribboned, collared, canine, state, 

I shall be left ravished, disconsolate ; 

Less than a dog, who every day does ride, 

The pet of such a mistress, in her pride. 

What fluffy Pom, could growl, at such a fate? 

The equipage, comes slowly down the drive, 

The coachman, cracks his surly whip. Your fair 
Eyes, veiled by heavy lids, see me afar. 

I nearer press ; for recognition strive. 

A smile, a roselike blush, framed in blonde hair, 
A seashell once, I think, pined for a star. 


REVERIE 


The sad suns set, by our lost seas, 

That rim our coasts, of Yesterday 
The warm winds wave, our filmy trees 
Against blue skies. From far away 
Unbidden fancies, pause to play 
On harps, sweet strains, from long ago 

Which bring the tears, though they be gay 
Those softening tears. Is it not so, 

A halo, hangs above the past 

And every pleasant place, long same 
Each grace, each face, the least, and last 
Is vanished gladness, that was thine. 


THE SONG OF THE WANDpRER. 


0 , wind, from a thousand isles 
Flung, over a Southern sea. 

From a thousand blossoms* 

Rich, and red, where Summer smiles-. 

And the tufted head 
Sways, on each tall palm tree. 

O, wind from a thousand hills. 

Swung, over a Northern plain. 

From a thousand valleys 

I have known, on roads of coral 

And roads of stone. Behold! I am young again 

O, warmth, of a summer sun, 

O, chill, of an autumn rain, 

O, ploughed up furrow, in 

Time of spring, when hedges bloom* 

And skylarks sing. 


I 


/ 


/ 


O, meadow, of golden grain 
O, shine, of a silver frost, 

O, white, of a winter snow, 

From a thousand pleasures 
Lived, and lost, in days of plenty, 

A shining host, Blow! Wind of Memory blow! 

O, eye, of a single star, 

Hung bright, in a violet sky. 

O, lights of a city 

Seen afar, from rising ground. 

With that lonely star, 

And the moon, for company. 

O, scent of cedar, and pine, 

O, view, of a purple main, 

O, Years! I have broken 

Your hostile line, remembering 

Hours, past, yet mine ! Behold ! I am young again l 


THE LOST STARS 

Onward 1 sailed star guided 
A thousand aens ago 
Dark space, was all above me 
Dark space, was far below 

Downward, looking, downward 
Between the metal bars 
Of that strange ship, one sailing 
Caught glimpses, of strange stars 

Falling, falling, downward 

To earth, we fell one night 
And though I long to see them 
My stars; are out of sight. 


THE HOME WINDS 


Over the hills, where the home winds blow 
Out of the night, to the morning sea, 

Down to the shores, where the same tides flow 
By the warm, white sands, that were dear to me 
When I was a child. The white sails flee 
To unknown ports; as of long ago 
Over the hills, where the home winds blow 
Out of the night, to the morning sea 

Ah clear, cold stars, you seem to know 
Blinking forever so peacefully, 

Why our pleasant places so barren grow 
And all is not; as it used to be 
Over the hills, where the home winds blow 
Out of the night, to the morning sea. 


THE CALL OF THE COASTS. 


The sky’s blue dome, spreads over all, 

On dim horizons, pearly gray. 

The ships slip by. Yes, far away, 

To north, and south, the slow sails crawl 
Oh ! purple main, at close of day, 

Oh ! sea, and air, Oh ! sand, and sea, 

Would I were where, the sea gulls play 
The coasts, have laid a call on me. 

Oh ! steep hillsides that rise to fall, 

Down to your rich, red, valleys clay, 

Oh ! mountain lakes, which tranquil lay, 
Your graceful willows, growing tall, 

May wave as wishing, one to stay 
By your cool lips, nor ever flee 


Forget the ships; My heart cries “Nay 
The coasts; have laid a call on me.” 

Southward, by eastward, sweet sails haul 
To isles, that ever, bask in May, 

Where proud palms rear, to meet the ray 
Of southern suns, I hear the call 

From coral caverns, cloaked in spray, 

And shell pink shores, of Bermudie 

Where perfume pours, from flowers gay 
The coasts, have laid a call on me. 

L’ ENVOY. 

All tribute be, your beauties pay 

Oh, mount, and river, turf, and tree, 

Of thine, and thee, I cannot say 
The coasts, have laid a call on me. 


TO A BALTIMOREAN BEAUTY 


Alice ; though all the bards should sing 
Your praise ; and kings, their gifts should bring 
And all the lords of greed, and gold, 

At your small feet, their fortunes rolled 


Dearer, than now you are to me 
For all the streams repeat your name 
The ocean’s murmur ’tis the same 
The red roads rise, o'er hills of green, 

To air castles, where you are queen 

In salt sea shells, as music dwells 

Your voice, and all my thoughts incline 
To one, whom all her sex excells 
Something of Earth, yet half divine. 


One whit, you would not, could not, be 



89 


/ 




A «* °JL° + Qr * i * * ■* 'o 




<r *?» 




,-10, 


> . ^ 


< \ 4 V I • « 

^ V »ww ♦ 

,: %r • 



;• ♦+"** '.W.' / "V ••? 

^ f.0 V - k **' ^ 





A q. 


<J> 



O "* 

*-«’ A° 

'• ^ a9 *> V” 

^ \4llC/V° ** a* : 

' t ' c > v\ v “ 



© N 0 


• • 


* V 


O « A 





A°“‘ 


.0 *«*•- 


O^ ‘ ea o 

• C ^r, » 

, r vP V » 

> * A v^. 

* ** % .w, 4. 

A <, *'7VV S .0^ 

A o oM -» <£. p>* 

o * 'T. ^ . 




^ < _ 

' J A <, ' 

: -bv* : 

° *° ’* 

°* * ‘ .T. •* a 0° v * *TTr- * y 

•'*'* jO' »!.*«- > 


♦ 4 CT • 

. -or a* *» 




* V - 



* ^ A ♦ 


• <P %> \ 



. V 4 

°. ^ * ‘ 



o v i * t## 


H<3* 


« ♦ 




**o, a^ v c° Ho « 

- **o : 

J *>° ^ V 

* cv^ ^ * * 


^ ^v..* *6 



rA • w 1 * * *o 

* %, C° o 

. V* 0 X 

* 4 O . • 

♦ A 



* • • ° 0 jfi* ^ # © m o 


• « 


* -6y o 




* -* 

4 XV ♦ 

/O’ ^ 




* ^ A ” 

.*< 


% a V^r - ^ 

* & % *J 


o. *o* * * A 



5l U V\ *• 

, o ^ ‘ 

\ aT 

\ ;\ A 

b A\ • ' 

‘ A ^ ^ ^ # 

^ <*• ♦ 


^5 °^ •» 



> 0°*°* ^ 


r 


c 0 w O y <^' ^ _ 

A . c^svv ^ ^ -* o 

.,»• .u ‘*TTi‘* A c ®^. # * • » »° aO 5 V '*??■>'' A~ 

o. .fy ,:••» *> v N . «i’,L'. o* y) v . r * “'. > V 4 

r ^ v " ^ fc ^ 

s^, 





*<• ^ * 


c-' iO < 

1 ^ ° 



* 4 


, * r o* ^ 

v» *^> ^ *“ 

« ^ cr 


o. ^© • \ * 


aV^. a 
■/ % * 



C,-' vf*. 

♦ ° 


A > "V '” • * 

.<&' o » * ’ » * <?. 


r 

A . * 




^ * - r** 4 '7%* ^ 

i 



,0^ ♦ * * 

• X/ %/ / 



5^r 


♦ ^ *> 





m • 




o^ t -r> 


*o • i 


° i° ^ . 

,* n o ’V - 

,0 'Tf, . , •, 

A)' .**“- ”> 

i * ^ A * Y $§%^fhfv ♦ 

r : mmB,- *v ,° 

:* ♦* ^ • ' - 


4 o 

>»<> « 



► aVA 
' * A V • 1 

4 <b 

A 0 0 * 0 4 

*b ,° 


<0 *7*\ >■ \ 

? <r+ + 

• i ■» • 

A V , « * » ^ V' 

<*■ ,r r A A ^ , ^ 

^ A 

'S' V « ^W- K///J1 , >r \ 

A V ^ - 

’ * x V v\ • 

4 ^ 





« M 0 









O- 

•A , i « 

O v * * v * © 

y * v 


'o . * * 


/> V ' • * * y*, 

<$> 0 p " *<• c& ..“J* p o 


O * *. 




■ **. c o v o 

^0 


^V. ° 

V \ 

O. # o » » 

* 4 **b -A 

% ^ .4* * 

- v^ r 

© jP 

* ^ * '?y//iV‘& *' u* ^ -* 

• 0 * ^vCv^s* as «> 

■> +-*.,, • <p o • 

\> c, ^0 ( t 

A v 




« A 4 V c< 

’- «fev* .°' J '^^^"'. ^0* 

p w * A °* 


0 M 0 



'j^ms a> «y * v ^ -.jaG?** ,** v ^yvr«' 

^ A* °o .A* V °o A 


V' <*'•*•' 

•«, <V *’£*. A 


4°*. 



O, '0 * w 

* 

O <N <» 

*b ? : 

> : *° ^ *. 
o* 0 ° 1 ‘ 

.. a* ; A to «►. a * 
r* ^"^f> '«: A" °<» 

J " 


*» ^ 

. » -*+~- ,♦ St- 

* • i v • <2^ 

* ^ 4? v •!*£'.*> V % t »l^* 

& * 

. < » . *» * 

* ^ .... <5* ‘ *‘‘ * 0 \v‘*.V 

♦ ••-«-••. % «<? sim?' °«. ^ 

* ^o 4 SSM^' o K 



1 . * T^v - ^ ijt ^ C\ 4 

* * > ’ * _ . °4, " * * * 



<. *-TT** .0' o ' 

<S> 0^ ,v... ^o 

<• *#« <-y » o 



■■ 

A 0 


o ^ ^P> .4 



HECKMAN 

BINDERY INC. 



v_ 



DEC 88 


N. MANCHESTER, 

INDIANA 46962 
— 



vA V 
A V ^ 

.* £ % 

* £ <* *' 

« y c » * « * 

o j-» %, 

- *""* 

■ ; 4 °^a •’^E ; -t. 4 ' , 


A°* 


I ** 


•* ° o , '*rrT’’ a.o° ^ **»<'*‘ 


M a 




-.V .til. 





kP S 

? ^ ^ 

A <***.*•' A w 

■ 0 « « A. *d> . fAV « * 1 




ill 

iilil 

iti;;##!!; 

aW-TlWJS'ji: 1 ! 

i l IIKii * m j , * ! 

•MKM 

! i ■' ) ' } v * 




mwiQiiU 


t n'iuimiK 1 , 


rr,i 








!i'-! f. 


i H Hi-' 



II II™ 

IMiMwHg 11 

, 


ill 

- }* '*b j? ' i -'?1 ii’l J J < I 1 1 > <>KJ 

j wiw 


111 








Midi; 


1 . ,•'. ; ■ 








